


First Order Liquor Emporium

by itspixiesthings



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Kylo Ren, Asshole Hux, Being Dead Inside, Comedy, Fluff, Liquor, Liquor Snobbery, M/M, Misanthropy, Retail, Take Your Fandom to Work Day, liquor store
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspixiesthings/pseuds/itspixiesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux and Kylo work at a Liquor Store and they hate everyone.</p>
<p>(Just a little series of vignettes for Take Your Fandom to Work Day. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SO I thought that the Take Your Fandom to Work Day prompt looked super fun, so I did it. I work at a Liquor Store and loved the idea of making Hux this insufferable liquor snob, but it really just devolved into 6K words of misanthropy, which is pretty typical when you work in retail ahahah. I hope you enjoy this look into my life through the eyes of these assholes.

Hux watched the woman enter the store as the bell rang to announce her presence. He was immediately annoyed by her, from the moment her foot stepped through the door. She had a specific look about her, the kind one came to notice with ease the longer one worked in retail. Knock-off brand clothes, clearly made to look expensive without the burden of actually being so. A snooty air about her in the way she carried herself, as though the employees of the establishment were beneath her. Her cheap perfume clouded the store in an instant, giving the perfect punctuation to the plastic diamonds dripping from her ears.  
  
The only thing worse than a rich snob, in Hux's opinion, was a _fake_ rich snob. He knew the moment she walked through the doors that the first words out of her mouth would be some form of banal and idiotic request that betrayed her incompetence with subjects upon which he himself was an expert. He braced himself for the impact. _And, in 3... 2... 1..._  
  
“Where are your _Champagnes?_ ”  
  
His lips twitched into an indulgent smile. It was possible his instincts about her were wrong. Not likely, but possible. With a gracious sweep of his hand, he motioned for her to follow. “Just right this way, Miss...” Her high heels clicked on the surface of the floor beneath them as she walked. Awkwardly, as though she had never worn heels before in her life. Too many of these almost high class girls tottered around on heels without bothering to actually learn how to walk in them. He motioned to the shelves where some of the best Champagnes were kept, row upon row of french wine with price tags upwards from 80$ to well into the hundreds. He watched with equal parts smug vindication and derisive annoyance as her brows narrowed and her nose crinkled.  
  
“Oh, _no no._.. You don't have anything cheaper?” Ah, and there it was. The smile he forced upon his lips did not reach his eyes as he turned abruptly. “ _Oh_ , I'm sorry.” He spoke with a tinge of arrogant condescension as he sought to drive home the woman's ignorance to her. “I thought you were looking for _Champagne_. Our _sparkling wine_ section is over here.” He gestured with a hand to a shelf next to the Champagnes, the more complete sparkling wine section. It wasn't that the woman had wanted cheaper fare that annoyed him... heavens knew on his salary he couldn't always afford the good stuff himself. No, it was the fact that she didn't know what she was asking for, and trying to pass herself off as _sophisticated_ that lodged itself under his skin like a splinter. Perhaps an insignificant annoyance, but impossible to ignore nonetheless.  
  
“Aren't those the same thing?” Her voice held a touch of indignation now herself, easily picking up on the retail worker's smug arrogance. He allowed another smile to cross his lips before he shook his head. “All Champagnes are sparklings but not all sparklings are Champagne.” He recited the verse by wrote. “Champagne is a _type_ of sparkling wine, originating in France, in the region of Champagne. You can't call other sparkling wines Champagne. Much in the same manor that you cannot call a whisky _Scotch_ unless it is made in _Scotland_.”  
  
She listened to his lecture for a moment with a bored expression before her eyes turned back to the shelves, passing over the bottles of cheaper sparkling wines. “I was looking for one I had before... it was really good. Do you have it?”  
  
Here he had to very steadfastly resist the urge to sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. His lips pursed into a tight line. “Can you tell me anything about it? Who makes it, where it is from, what the bottle looks like? A flavor profile?” He forced the questions out through his teeth, though he dreaded the answer he knew was coming. “No.... well, it had a _picture_ on the label. I would recognize it if I saw it. It was really good.”  
  
He threw his hands up in defeat, shaking his head, holding himself back from laughing in her face. “ _Well!_ A _picture_ on the label! I'm sure I know _just_ the one!” The ginger dropped the smile from his face, replacing his expression with one of bored irritation. “This is the sparkling section. Please browse to your hearts content. Good day.” And with that he turned around and walked away, muttering under his breath about the injustice of having to deal with people who overuse perfumes and don't know what they want.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Kylo scanned the items on the counter, each one placed just a little too far from him to be within easy reach. He sighed as he leaned over the counter so far his front half extended over the other end. The couple where too engrossed in their own conversation to notice that they had done this. It wasn't that people were purposefully antagonistic, he knew. It was really more that people generally spent so much time caught up in their own little worlds that they didn't bother to _think_ about those around them. Kylo, for all intents and purposes, was nothing more that a robot behind that counter as far as they were concerned. He sighed again, the last item scanned through.  
  
“Your total is 56.85$. May I please see your ID?” The couple stopped their conversation only for the second required for the man to pull his ID out of his wallet, setting it on the counter. They continued to yap away as though he were not there as Kylo looked it over, pushed it back towards him, and then turned to the girl. “And yours? I need your ID as well, please.”  
  
She glanced at him briefly, shrugged and waved him aside, as though his interruption of whatever they were talking about as a grave inconvenience. “Oh, I'm not buying anything.”

  
Oh. _Great_.

  
He raised his voice, only a fraction, enough to cut through their incessant nattering at one another. “ _I need ID from both of you_.” That, at least, managed to stop the endless flow of chatter. The couple stopped, looking at him with blank expressions for a moment before the man spoke up. “Dude, _I'm_ the one buying it.”  
  
It happened at minimum once a day, if not more. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, though he did look around to see if there were any coworkers in the near vicinity to back him up. “It doesn't matter. I need to ID everyone who's shopping together. Minors aren't even allowed in the store. You _both_ need to show me ID or I _can't sell it to you_.”  
  
The man started to narrow his brow, his previously jovial mood quickly turning sour. The girl placed a hand on his shoulder, tsking her lips at Kylo and shaking her head. “It's fine baby I'll just go wait in the car.” Kylo felt his own annoyance rise as he spoke again, more firmly this time, louder so they could both be sure to hear him.  
  
“I'm sorry, maybe I wasn't clear. _I need to see her ID_. If I don't see some ID, I am _not selling this to you._ ” The man was becoming visibly angered now, his face going red as he shoved a credit card in Kylo's face. “ _Listen_ buddy, she's _leaving,_ okay?? She's my girlfriend, you think I'm fucking dating a minor?”   
  
Kylo's eyes flashed as he pushed the card back towards the customer. “That's not the fucking point! I can't legally sell anything to you if I don't see her ID, and I assume she does not have it, so you're going to have to leave!”  
  
“Fuck you man! We drove all the way here!” Kylo felt his own hand slam down on the counter. “I don't give a shit! Go to another store!” As the couple stormed out, Kylo locked eyes with a coworker, marching away from the counter. He could feel his heart beginning to race as anger settled in his chest.  
  
“Cover my till. I need a fucking smoke.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Your tits look good in that top.”  
  
Phasma's lips pursed as she tried to keep her composure. The man behind the counter was staring openly, a blank and almost dumbfounded expression on his face. To be fair, he was certainly not the _worst_ of the disgusting come-ons she got working here. But he was one of the weirder.  
  
“Thanks.” She replied without any hint of friendliness in her tone. The blonde woman had long ago discovered that making even the pretense of warmth only encouraged them. Not that some of them could take the hint to back off. _This_ one certainly never did.  
  
“I suppose it's weird to say that. Is it weird?” The man's expression never changed from the creepy blank look of mesmerized awkwardness, his eyes never leaving her chest. “Hmm.” She made a noncommittal sound as she moved the scanning gun over the bar-code on the last of his bottles. “I just can't help it though.” He continued, his deadpan voice grating on her nerves. “They look so damn good.”  
  
“Your total is 26.70.” She pushed the debit machine towards him without looking up at him again as she moved to bag his items. She was done taking an active part in these conversations. The man looked embarrassed as he put his card in the machine. _Good._ He _should_ be.  
  
When the receipt came up, she shoved it in the bag and passed it over to him. “ _Have a good day_.” The words were choked out through a fake smile that hurt her cheeks to maintain. He nodded and shambled off through the doors, muttering under his breath about titties.  
  
  


 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Kylo watched Hux as he carted the boxes around on the dolly, his foot tilting the metal cart _just so_ so that the cases of bottles would not topple over. The colourful labels on the sides of the cardboard boxes denoted them all as cases of craft beer, breweries from across the country who did not believe in mass production. Kylo scoffed under his breath.  
  
Hux's eyes darted up to him as he bent over to open one of the boxes, taking the large bottles out and methodically placing them on the shelves. “Yes, Kylo? What is it?” His voice said that he was in no mood to converse. Kylo liked it when he got like that. It was fun to get under his skin. Besides, his fussy interest in overpriced nonsense was a little silly anyways, in his opinion.  
  
“The specialty beers are taking up too much shelf space. Whatever happened to _normal_ beer?” He eyed the shelves. The craft beer market had all but exploded in recent years. Now the beers were taking up an entire section of their own, and Hux had begun to organize them by country as though they were wine. As if he could hear his thoughts, Hux huffed under his breath, a scoff of disbelief that he had to explain this to a fellow employee. “These aren't _specialty_ beers, these _are_ 'normal beer'. It's only in North America that we mass produce everything.” He pointed to the European section. Several small, squat bottles sat row upon row with ludicrous words that Kylo could not decipher, like Dubbel and Rauchbier.  
  
“If you were to visit Europe, the _only_ beers you would find would be beers brewed at local breweries, produced in small batches. _We_ are the ones doing things backwards. And now _real_ beer is coming back into style, and it is wonderful. It is an exciting market. Alternately...” He pointed down the room towards the cooler doors that were lined with 6 packs of Budweiser and Old Milwaukee. “The _pisswater_ section is still in booming business if you can't handle the taste of _real_ beer.”  
  
Kylo rolled his eyes at the pretentious snobbery in Hux's voice. He picked up a bottle of something with a piece of artwork on the label depicting a demonic figure. It was labelled “Arrogant Bastard Ale”.  
  
“Hey, look Hux. You didn't tell me they made a beer just for you.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hux's expression was near vacant as he rang items through the till. The youth in front of him looked like he had just stepped off the set of a dingy wannabe rap video for white kids, and fresh out of highschool. He was _loud._ Hux _hated_ it when people were loud. The kind of young person who thought the world revolved around him and needed to be at the centre of attention the moment he walked into a room. “Dude we're going to the club tonight it's gonna be fucking awesome! So many fucking hot chicks man you know? Fuck yeah buddy that shit is the best!” He called to his friend elsewhere in the store, picking up a bottle of Ciroc vodka. “That shit get you _all_ the pussy man chicks dig that shit!”  
  
Hux had to physically restrain himself from letting his extreme irritation show on his face. The level of intelligence in the building always went down around this time of the evening, when the college aged kids were on their way to the bars. He considered it ironic the level of idiocy demonstrated by those who were apparently supposed to be in the pursuit of knowledge and education.  
  
As he reached to scan the last bottle he cursed under his breath at the angry beeping sound the computer made when it could not find an item. Setting the 6 pack down on the counter, his lips pinching tight, he keyed in his code to bring up the product search function.  
  
This always took a few moments. The idiot customer _noticed._ They _always_ did. Mentally he braced himself for what he knew was coming. “Not scanning huh? _Guess that means it's free!_ ” Hux allowed himself a moment to mentally indulge in the idea of shoving the man's credit card painfully down his throat for that joke. It was on the List of insufferable jokes that No Cashier Wants to Hear Ever but for some reason every slack jawed yokel in the world thought was hilarious.  
  
He forced a faked smile upon his lips in acknowledgement of the attempt at humour for a brief moment. He wasn't sure why every idiot suddenly thought they were a comedian when they came up to a till, but he very much wished most people would just _shut the fuck up_. What was so wrong with a little peace and quiet, he would like to know. Finally the item was keyed in. He made a mental note to barcode the 6 pack later.  
  
“I'll need to see your ID.” There was not the barest hint of cordiality in his tone of voice. He knew it didn't exactly make tips to be so cold, but he was past the point of caring. The male employees never brought in the kinds of tips the women did anyways. He didn't have the _assets._  
  
The kid nodded, passing the card across the counter. Hux picked it up he inspected the photo, confirmed it was indeed the same person. Eyes travelled to the date of birth. Then the dumbass opened his _mouth_ again, idiotic laughter rolling off his tongue. “Pretty good _fake_ huh? Just whipped it up this morning!”  
  
He felt a nerve twitch in his brow. His lips were tight. In an instant he set down the ID card, no longer deigning to even look at it. He had sworn to himself he would do this the next time some jackass made _this_ joke. “Oh, it's fake is it? I'm sorry I'm afraid I cannot accept a fake ID.”  
The smile on the customer's face fell in an instant, his brows knitting in confusion. Hux's heart soared just seeing it. “You're _joking_ right? I wasn't _serious_ man, I was just kidding!”  
  
Hux moved the card, setting it behind the till, a smug smile resting on his lips. “I need to take ID _very_ seriously I'm afraid. I cannot make the sale, and I'll be keeping the card to turn into the police for an inquiry. You can pick it up at the station if it's not fake.” His brow furrowed into an apologetic sort of frown, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
“ _What the fuck!_ It was a _joke,_ it's not _actually_ fake!” Hux grinned wide at that, enjoying the distress he was causing the poor young, stupid, douchbag of a kid. Leaned forward over the counter, taking a great amount of pleasure thinking of the disruption this would cause to the customer's day. “Then think. Of. Some better. _Jokes_.”  
  
His hand pointed towards the door as the next customer in line came up behind the dumbfounded male. “The exit is that way.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Kylo watched the woman come up to the counter, bottle of wine in one hand and a cellphone held to her ear in the other. He repressed a resigned sigh as she placed the bottle awkwardly on the counter top, manoeuvring her purse as she kept the cellphone in place. It was clearly the top priority in this endeavour. Her voice was incessant, her conversation about hair appointments obviously of the utmost import.  
  
“Yeah you _know?_ I was just going to go blond again but like, that's so not really the style anymore. So like I was going to have the undersides done in lighter but, like, the tops done with a bit of a darker colour because... oh hang on I'm at the till... yeah, _no_. This hairdresser is _good_ she... one sec...”  
  
Kylo watched her root through her purse for her credit card as he scanned the bottle. His eyes were glazed over with the kind of expression only achieved through day after day of dealing with people who thought of him as an accessory to the store, and not someone to actually have a proper interaction with. “Your total is 10.99, Miss.” He had to raise his voice so that she would notice that he was speaking. She nodded at him for a quick moment, frowning as though he were interrupting her as she took cash out of her bag. He could feel his blood boiling with anger the longer the phone conversation went on.  
  
As he took the bills from her hands and opened the till he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Do you want a _bag?_ ” Again, raising the volume on his words to be heard over the constant and never ending prattle. She shook her head, an expression of irritation crossing her face that made him want to _throw_ the change at her instead of handing it to her. He opted to place it on the counter.  
  
She stared at him for a moment after she had collected her change. He stared back. Finally she took a break from the phone, moving it away from her mouth as she shot him a look of exasperated impatience. “Um, can I have a _bag_ please?”  
  
The pained smile that crossed his face was all he could do to keep from smashing the bottle over the till in frustration.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“So you should start seeing these skews in a couple of weeks. We're changing over to summer seasonals now, lot's of IPAs and heffewiezens. Sunsetter Peach Ale is going to be available as well. Weathers getting hot, people want something a little lighter than the dark stouts and porters.”  
  
Phasma nodded as she looked over the sell sheet, eyeing the price lists and the skews. This was the third sales rep today with a list of new products, gearing into the summer season. Coolers, new beers. She smiled. “Everyone loves the Sunsetter. It's a big seller. Glad to see it's coming into season soon!”  
  
Summer time was easily their busiest season, and like every other season it came with a swell of it's own craft beer seasonal releases. She liked the summer beers the best. They were refreshing and easy to drink... perfect for hot days in the sun.   
  
The rep smiled, nodding in agreement. “That's definitely one of our top selling skews. Especially for the summer. Craft beer has really just.... taken off in recent years, it's really fun to watch!”   
  
The blonde's red lips spread, an excited light in her eyes. “I know! It's so neat to see, so many new craft breweries. Portland is _overflowing_ with them, and of course there's all the European stuff. Even _Canada_ has recently been teaming with new breweries. Hux has had to make a whole section for British Columbia!”   
  
The rep's eyes darted around the meticulously organized shelves that housed the craft beer. Row upon row of bombers, each with labels more colourful and eccentric than the last. “Yes, it's really neat to see the market growing like this. They're getting more expensive too though...” Her eye fell upon a row of fancy looking bottles with a myriad of coloured wax tops. The word ECLIPSE was across the side, with a price tag of 45.99$.  
  
“I mean, it's practically like _wine_ now! Except for _men!_ ”  
  
At that Phasma's expression fell. The excitement in her eyes petered out, as disappointment clouded her mind. _Really?_ Did the conversation _have_ to go in this direction? She sighed, not bothering to hide the irritation from her tone of voice. “For _men?_ Really? _I_ drink a lot of this stuff.”  
  
The sales lady hastened to correct herself, a sheepish smirk gracing her lips as she shook her head. “Oh of course! I do too! I just mean, well, it's _mostly_ men who drink it. Women _usually_ prefer wine.” She giggled conspiratorially, as if the needless gendering of product was just a normal and expected part of life. Phasma sighed, ready to be done with the conversation.  
  
This was why customers so often, when looking for advice on craft beer, would ignore Phasma's presence and instead seek out the male employees. Why even women would ask _Kylo_ for advice when Kylo never drank anything that didn't come in a six pack for under ten dollars. _Oh, where is your beer expert?_ Was a question Phasma was sick to death of hearing.  
  
“Oh! I almost forgot! Here's some samples for the staff of a new radler.” The woman brought out three tall cans of grapefruit flavoured beer, setting them on the counter in front of her. Phasma smiled appreciatively as she took them, the cold tin of the cans chilling her palms.   
  
“Thanks. I'll make sure staff gets a chance to try them.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
“What do you mean you don't have any free swag there is always free swag!” Kylo frowned as he heard the commotion at the front of the store. The new cashier, Dopheld, was at the till, and the man behind it was becoming angrier with every moment. Kylo rolled his eyes as he moved to approach, keeping his ear open to ascertain what exactly was going on.  
  
“I.I..I'm sorry sir, but the giveaway items go with specific products.” The smaller man's eyes were wide as he nervously tried to explain company policy. One look at the customer made Kylo seethe. He was well dressed, broad shouldered, and clearly used to getting his way. “I just spent over twenty dollars here! Fuck you I can't have a Miller hat!”  
  
Liquor stores tended to attract a rather special kind of trash. High brow snobs were inevitable anywhere, as were lowlifes off the streets. The ones however that really got under ones skin were the middle kind. The middle class zombies that liked to fancy themselves high class. The men who clearly had money but were still cheapskate enough to demand freebies that they didn't need. He hated them.  
  
As the man started reaming the cashier out Kylo came up behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Excuse me, what seems to be the trouble here?” Dopheld almost collapsed in on himself with relief. The man's eyes raked over him, a bored expression of unimpressed arrogance, that equally failed in turn to impress Kylo. “I want some free swag! I _know_ you fuckers have some. There's hats that go with Miller, and cooler bags with the Budweiser, what do I gotta do to get some fucking swag!”  
  
Kylo's eyes drew together as he looked the man over. _What a fucking chump._ “My coworker here already told you. You have to-”   
  
“Buy the corresponding product, yeah yeah yeah I know I know but c'mon buddy I want some swag you gotta hook me up man. I don't want to drink that crap beer I just want the swag! I'm gonna take my business to another store!”  
  
Dopheld was slowly slinking away as Kylo's temper grew, his hands curling into fists as the idiot kept talking. “ _Then do it!_ I don't care!” The man would not shut up, as he continued to ramble over and over about _swag_. Kylo _hated_ that word. Swag. _Swag. SWAG._ Something snapped.  
  
He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him over the counter and applying enough pressure to his throat to choke him. The man cried out in alarm, his own hands clenching. It looked like it might be about to come to blows. “Get the _fuck out of my store_ before I _fucking make you_.” He looked him in the eye. Both parties eyeing the other in fury, though Kylo easily towered over the enraged customer. The man looked like he was about to take a swing when something separated the two of them.  
  
There was a flash of gingery red as Hux pushed his way in between the two men, shoving Kylo away and into the cash register with a crash. “What the _ever loving fuck Kylo!_ As much as I understand the desire, you can't just _assault_ customers just because they're being belligerent fucks!”  
  
The customer straightened himself out, gasping in breath after breath. “Your manager is going to hear about this. _Do you know who I am?_ ” Hux gritted his teeth and rounded on the man, his eyes burning with a barely restrained fire. “ _Do you think I give a shit?!_ Get the fuck out of-” He stopped as he looked down at the man's pants. Either the man had a being-choked-across-a-counter kink, or he had something in his pants. Something rather decidedly bottle shaped.  
  
With pursed lips and a rough manner he leaned over and pulled at the hem of the man's jeans. The force with which he moved made the pants shift just enough for him to pluck a mickey of Grey Goose vodka from the confines of his boxers. Then he stepped aside, gesturing to the man, bottle in hand. “Kylo, be my guest.”  
  
A thrill of smug satisfaction washed through him as the watched his large and rather uncontrollable coworker deck the man in the face.

 

 

* * *

  
  


 

“You're both _fired._ ”  
  
Hux narrowed his eyes at the man sitting behind the desk in the rag tag little room that passed for an office. Their boss was old looking man, though Hux suspected he looked much older than he actually was. Balding, wrinkled, and with a permanent scowl etched into his face. So pale one could almost think his pallor was bordering on blue. And a personality to match his grim looks. Hardly the most pleasant man to work for, though luckily for his own sanity he was not actually at the store itself very often.  
  
“Please.” He scoffed, making no effort to hide the terse derision in his voice. Kylo shifted beside him, cowed by the intensity of the boss's voice, swishing his foot on the ground. His eyes did not leave the floor. “You can't just _fire_ us, there are _laws_ in place. You need three strikes before-” The man raised a hand to cut him off, a glare that could curdle milk on his brow.  
  
“Kylo here has more than enough strikes against his name, but in any case assault of a customer is more than good enough reason in the eyes of the law for immediate termination.” Kylo said nothing, his face going red, his fingers lacing within each other. Hux growled, fury growing as he stared his boss down. “I had _nothing_ to do with the assault, and besides it was more than justified. The customer in question was stealing from this establishment. You would have had us let him leave with stolen goods?”  
  
Mr. Snoke's fingers drummed on the desk as he glowered at the pair of them. “There are better ways to deal with shoplifters than... what occurred. It is still considered assault. _And_ ,” He cut off the ginger with a sharp look as he was about to open his mouth to interject. “It was _not_ apparent that he was a shoplifter before the altercation began, _and_ , you Mr. Hux _were_ involved, however indirectly.” He sighed, waving a hand in their direction. “Quite frankly I'm surprised the both of you have been employed for as long as you have. You _are_ both fired.”  
  
“Well.” Hux's eyes narrowed in barely restrained fury, his body shaking from the injustice. Kylo's back was bent over as though he could shrink his rather considerable mass until he might disappear from scrutiny. Fucking dumbass. “ _Quite frankly_ working for you has always been _miserable_. I don't have any desire to be a part of this establishment any longer anyways. _Fuck. You._ ”  
  
With that he spun on his heel and marched out of the office, the sulking Kylo hot on his heels. As the two of them exited the building the sun could just be seen beginning to make it's dip below the horizon, the air filling with that dimming kind of constancy that signalled the end of the day.  
  
“God damn it.” He muttered for a moment under his breath as he paused outside the doors. He could just hear the sound of sniffling beside him. Without turning to look at his former co-worker he sighed. “Oh don't fucking _cry_. Snoke's an ass anyways.”  
  
Kylo was silent, standing beside him, his pent up emotions from the day threatening to overwhelm him. He tried to stop the tears, holding his breath to keep from making a sound. Hux stayed facing away from him for a long moment before he turned to take in his visage. Eyes red. Silent tears leaking across his face. Hux rolled his eyes before he sighed, an expression of extreme annoyance on his face.   
  
“ _Look._ Why don't you come by my place later tonight. We'll have some drinks to celebrate our newfound freedom. Alright?” Kylo took in a deep breath, looking up at the ginger with curiosity. Hux was an ass. But right now they were in the same boat. There was no warmth in the man's expression, only cold indifference, but that he had made the offer at all was astounding. He nodded tentatively, raising an arm to wipe his face clear of tears. “Alright.”  
  
  


 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The knock at the door made Hux sigh in resignation. He had half hoped that Kylo would forget the extended invitation. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to offer it in the first place. Really he had just wanted to make the man stop fucking _crying_. Stupid.  
  
He opened the door to see the former liquor store employee, changed out of work clothes and wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. He was holding up a 6 pack of beer. Hux couldn't help but scoff in derision.  
“Really? _Pabst Blue Ribbon? That's_ what you bring to my house?”  
  
Kylo's eyes narrowed, his face turning red in embarrassment. “Shut up! Don't give me shit right now. It's all I had in my fridge okay?” A smirk tugged at the corner of Hux's lips as he shook his head and stood aside to allow the man entrance. “I suppose I should be impressed you even had an entire 6 pack. Come in.”  
  
Kylo followed the redhead into the house, looking around in frank astonishment. He knew Hux was well groomed and fussy, but the interior of his house was nothing short of immaculate. Hux gestured towards the couch in the living room as he himself made his way into the kitchen, opening cabinets with a methodical kind of reverence. A bottle was pulled down from a high shelf. Kylo recognized it; it was a very expensive bottle of scotch. Glemorangie 18 yr.  
  
The man poured the golden liquid into a short, squat looking glass, before he clasped it in hand and made his way into the living room to join his guest. Fixing him with a cold, icy stare, he held the glass of scotch out towards him. “Here. Have a _real_ drink.”  
  
Kylo stared at the glass for a moment, chewing on the inside of his lip as in in thought before he reached out to take the glass from the redhead's hand. It felt cold and heavy in his grip. The expensive nature of the stuff bade him to handle it with care, cradling it in hand like it was a fragile thing. He frowned before he reached to the six pack he had set on the carpeted floor and pulled a can free from the rings, holding it out in offering to his host.  
  
Hux only looked down his nose at the proffered can, distaste apparent in his eyes. He sneered at it with a tsk of impatience. “You think _that cheap shit_ is fair trade for my single malt?” Kylo felt a pang of impotence, a red hue rising to his cheeks as he retracted his hand. His face looked like he was a kicked puppy, timid and shamed. Hux rolled his eyes, sighing again in impatience at the mournful expression on the poor boy's face. Now he was apparently stuck babysitting the poor sob's feelings.  
  
“ _Oh give it here_.” The way Kylo's eyes lit up made him smirk some. He was easy to play. That in itself was interesting. He took the can, still cold, in his grasp. It made a hissing sound as he cracked it open. Then he settled himself on a chair opposite his former coworker, extending the butt of the can to his glass, clinking the two in unison. “Cheers. To freedom.”  
  
As he lifted the can to his lips he stopped for a moment, watching with appalled fascination as Kylo knocked the glass back like a shot. The result was a coughing and sputtering mess of a boy as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and gripped his throat with his other hand. “ _Fuck!_ ” The burning sensation from the liquor spread through his mouth and his throat, the taste hard and strong.   
  
“What the _fuck!_ You aren't supposed to _shoot_ it!” Hux gave an exasperated huff as he watched him, rolling his eyes at the antics of his guest. As Kylo's breathing levelled out, the burning subsiding and the hard taste quelling, he managed to sputter out a reply. “ _That_ ” he said between gasps, “is some _nasty fucking shit!_ You _drink_ that?! Tastes like vomit and piss!”   
  
A hard bark of laughter left the ginger's lips as he took a swig from the can of beer. “You would know, would you?” His lips curled in distaste as he swallowed. “I supposed I shouldn't be surprised that anything with any _flavor_ at all is hard for you to stomach. _This_ is like I'm drinking water. Fucking waste of scotch...”  
  
Kylo's face was flushed as he reached down to crack another can. “You always were a _prick_ , you know?” He took a swig of the beer, washing down the taste of the fine whisky. It was a comforting flavor. More familiar. Like an old friend.  
  
Hux shrugged, pressing the can to his lips. “I suppose so. I've been called worse. And you're an insufferable maniac. So I suppose we're even.” Kylo smiled into the can of beer for a moment, a rueful smile that was tinged with sadness. “Guess we aren't going to be working together anymore.”  
  
That elicited a chuff from the other man, who leaned back on the couch with the beer in hand, looking down into the can. “Not very likely. Why? Don't tell me you'll _miss_ me?” The words were offered forth in a mocking tone of voice. Hux's eyes darted up to take in the demeanour of his guest. Kylo sighed and shrugged.   
  
“Don't know what I'm going to do next....” He trailed off, tossing his head back and chugging the rest of the beer. Hux watched in fascination. It was cheap stuff after all... designed to be downed like it was water in order to get drunk as quickly as possible. Kylo's face was already red from the alcohol he had already consumed.   
  
“Though, the guy did look good with a fucking black eye and a split lip, didn't he?” Kylo's voice rang out as he looked up at the ginger, quirking a brow in his direction. An almost playful kind of sadism twinkled in his host's eyes. “ _Oh_ yes. _Very much_ worth it. I've wanted to see you do that to someone for a long time, if I'm honest.”  
  
They sat in silence for some time after that. The taste of PBR and tin from the cans was heavy on their tongues, but neither men seemed to mind. Neither of them seemed keen to talk further, staring into their drinks as though social occasions were foreign affairs to them both. Finally Kylo tossed his head back, draining the rest of the liquid in one last swig. As the can was crushed in his hand he locked eyes with the ginger.  
  
“You're right, this shits awful. You got any more of that scotch?” Hux's lips turned, his eyes twitching in contemplation before he too downed the beer in his can, tossing it back like it was nothing. As he set the can down and got to his feet again with a sigh, he tossed an amused and skeptical look at his guest.   
  
“Only if you promise to sip it properly this time. It wasn't artfully crafted and aged to perfection for you to treat it like it was a cheap shot at a bar off a hooker's tits.” He moved to the kitchen again after stooping to grasp the emptied glass, then clasped the bottle in hand. Pulled another glass out of a cupboard. “How you managed to work as long as you did at a liquor store without knowing anything. Fuck. Here, it's time for a basic rundown on scotches. Scotch was invented....”  
  
Kylo watched his lips moved as he spoke, the golden liquid that he quite honestly had hated pouring easily into the glasses. He liked the way Hux sounded when he was passionate about something. When he was teaching someone about something. As arrogant and pompous as he could be, he was knowledgeable and dedicated.  
  
He reached for another beer as he listened. He would miss working with the jackass. The bottle clinked against the glass before it was being passed back into his hand.

His next tentative sip did not taste quite so bad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!


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